All The Ways I Want You
by Ben Barrett
Summary: Helga has a strange recurring dream that causes her to seriously consider telling Arnold how she feels.
1. The Dream

**A Note From Ben: This is the first story I've written outside of the South Park fandom. I've always had an interest in _Hey Arnold, _and I still consider it one of the best shows ever made. I hope you enjoy this story. Those of you who have me on your author alerts might be surprised to actually find that I DO write other things. Ha, ha, ha.**

* * *

**All The Ways I Want You**

By Ben Barrett

**Chapter One – The Dream**

_I love you, Arnold._

The words echoed through her mind like a mantra.

_I love you so much._

Helga G. Pataki was running through a dark hallway full of stone Arnold statues, all as tall as an office building. She knew, somewhere within the recesses of her mind, that this was a dream; it _had _to be. Still, she kept running down the hallway, under the intense stare of a thousand stone football-headed boys. She knew if she could get to the end of it, just reach that dim light in the distance that never seemed to get any nearer, that she would find the _real _Arnold.

_Then I can tell him,_ she cried to herself. _I can finally tell him!_

_But this is all a dream, ain't it? _another voice asked, one that sounded suspiciously like Stinky.

Suddenly, all the statues around her weren't Arnold anymore; they had changed to Stinky in the blink of an eye. He stared down at her from on high, that ridiculous grin of his plastered on his face.

_No! _she cried, no longer running, but looking forlornly upwards as if it would turn the statues back into Arnold again. _Please! Not him!_

She began to scream. She screamed and she screamed as the statues began to laugh at her and tell her she was sure purty, the purtiest thang they'd ever seen. She fell to her knees and bellowed her lament to the darkness above.

_Arnold! Anold! _she moaned. _Oh, Arnold please come back!_

As if in response to her cry, Arnold appeared farther down the hallway, mostly hidden by the darkness. As she jumped to her feet to run to him, he faded completely into the shadows. Helga dashed toward where she'd seen him, farther and farther on, but saw no further sign of him. This did not hinder her in the least, for surely if she ran a little farther, a little faster, she'd catch up to him.

_Keep going Pataki, _she told herself. _Don't let him get away again!_

She finally stopped and fell to the ground in frustration when she saw the statues change again. The stone goliaths no longer resembled Stinky; they actually looked like Eugene. She swore under her breath; how could she expect to find her beloved if the hallway kept changing itself? It was like being in some kind of funhouse, except, of course, she wasn't having fun at all. All she wanted was to catch Arnold and confess her undying love to him, finally.

_If I can only get to him._

She got to her feet to begin the chase again, but before she could move a step, a rumbling sound began to fill the hallway. The ground beneath her feet began to shake violently, knocking her back to her knees and sending chunks of the ceiling plummeting downward. They crashed into the tile all around her, covering her with debris and dust.

_Oh, I am going to die! _she cried. _I don't want to die here! Not without Arnold!_

She struggled back to a standing position despite the movement of the ground beneath her feet. She ran farther down the dark and gloomy hallway, dodging chunks of plaster. If she got far enough along, maybe the hallway would change again; maybe it would stop whatever was happening.

She jumped to the side to avoid an extremely large piece of ceiling that smashed to pieces less than a foot from her. Shielding her face with her arms, Helga ran on faster than ever. She would not stop, would not rest, until she was safe in Arnold's arms. Then, they could walk out of this place arm-in-arm and never look back.

_You're forgetting again, _Eugene's voice told her, _that this is a _dream.

_I don't _care! she shot back. _I don't care!_

Up ahead, she saw—or thought she saw—a glimpse of someone in the distant darkness, beckoning her on. A surge of new hope welled up inside her, but at that moment a piece of ceiling the size of a car came crashing down in front of her. She jumped backwards to avoid it and tripped over her own feet. She landed hard on her tailbone, causing her to cry out in pain.

Relentless, she forced herself back to her feet and looked toward where she thought she had seen Arnold. No one was there, of course, and the ground was shaking harder than ever. On top of all that, her backside hurt almost more than she could bear.

_How could it get any worse?_ she grumbled.

As if they could read her mind, the statues began to shake and rock on their platforms. Somewhere in the darkness either in front of her or behind her, Helga heard one fall to the ground with a thunderous crash, followed by another and another. Soon the ones near her began to lurch forward and crash against the floor. She tried to avoid them, but they were far bigger than the pieces of ceiling she had been dodging. Soon, they were falling all around her, each one assuring her as it hit the ground that it was okay.

Helga fell to her knees in tears. She pulled out the heart-shaped locket in which she kept her picture of Arnold and clutched it to her.

_I'm so sorry, _she said as one of the giant effigies of Eugene came down directly upon her….

* * *

"So you had that same dream again?" Phoebe said. "That is so weird."

They were standing in a deserted bathroom, where Helga knew no one would sneak up on them and discover her secret. She was always very discreet when discussing Arnold, except when she was humiliating or insulting him in public. Very few people knew that she loved him and she intended to keep it that way.

"I don't normally think much of dreams," Helga said, staring intently into a grimy mirror, her palms resting on the sink below. "But this one keeps coming back. I need to figure out why."

Phoebe looked down at the bathroom tile and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. There were several ways it could be interpreted, none of which would please Helga in the least. She knew she had to approach this delicately or risk seeing her lose her temper again.

"I think…it may mean that without Arnold, you feel your whole world would collapse."

"That's so true," Helga sighed in a dreamy voice, pulling out her locket. She stared at it longingly.

"It also means," Phoebe continued, taking a deep breath, "that you may feel Arnold is slipping away from you. Somewhere inside you, you know that every day you _don't _tell him is another day for him to get closer to someone else…like Lila."

Helga ground her teeth together at the mention of Lila's name. True, the little prissy had done her some favors in the past, but that didn't change the fact that she seemed to be closing in on Arnold. This was completely unacceptable in Helga's eyes and she would not tolerate it. If she had her way, oh the things she could do to Lila's pretty face…

"Are you listening?" Phoebe asked, a tad impatient.

"Huh?" Helga said turning her head to look at her friend, "Oh yeah, sorry Phoebe."

"What I was _saying _was that you need to tell Arnold how you really feel."

"Are you _crazy_?!" Helga bellowed.

Phoebe flinched a little, but didn't back down. Helga had asked her opinion on this recurring dream, had even pulled her aside and taken up her whole lunch period to talk about it, and she was going to give her _exactly _what she asked for!

"If you don't," she said, matching Helga's angry glare as best she could, "then you're going to lose him. I have a feeling Arnold may be onto you anyway, but he's not going to wait forever. Sooner or later, he's going to take an interest in somebody and, chances are, the way you treat him it's _not _going to be you."

The bell rang loudly, causing them both to jump in surprise.

"Sorry I took up all your lunch," Helga said, heading toward the door.

"Oh, that's okay," her friend replied, "this was important."

They walked out of the bathroom together and headed back toward their classroom, where Mr. Simmons would be expecting them very shortly. Neither of them thought to inspect the bathroom they went into to have their chat. They never considered, in their haste, to check each stall to make sure they were empty before discussing such private matters. Had they done so, they would have found Harold standing on top of a toilet, where he had fled to hide from Big Patty.

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**That's it for the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll be back soon with another, I promise. **


	2. Set Up

**Chapter Two – Set Up**

Helga was walking home from school later that day when she heard someone running up from behind. She turned to look and saw Harold huffing and puffing his way toward her as quickly as his bulky frame would allow.

"What do you want, fatso?" she asked rudely.

"Who're you callin' fatso?" he wailed. "I'm not fat!"

"Harold, _please,_" she replied with a roll of her eyes, "you're _way _too far gone to be in denial."

He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then closed it again, thinking it best not to anger this girl. God knows, the last person who'd gotten on her bad side had ended up in a trash can with their hands and feet tied together. Harold might have been a little on the slow side, but he knew better than to push his luck without ensuring his safety. That meant, of course, revealing the ace he had hidden up his sleeve.

Helga got tired of seeing him stare off into space after so long and turned to leave. This brought him quickly out of his thoughts.

"Wait, Helga!" he cried.

"_What?!" _she screamed, turning back to face him.

"I know something about you," he said finally, giving her quite the mischievous grin, "and I don't think you want me telling people."

Helga scoffed at this. The idea that this tub of lard could remember his own last name, let alone retain knowledge of any importance, was ridiculous. The idea that he was trying to _blackmail _her was unbearably funny.

"Oh, right, Harold," she sneered, "and what could you possibly know?"

He didn't answer right away. He suddenly seemed more interested in a nearby bush than in the conversation at hand. Figures; the stupid lump had the attention span of a sack of bricks. She decided he was just bluffing her as part of some idiotic practical joke and turned to leave again.

"IknowyouloveArnold!" he blurted out, which caused her to stop in her tracks.

"_What _did you say?" she growled without turning around. Harold could tell by the sound of her voice that she was grinding her teeth.

"I said….I know you love Arnold," he stated.

She turned to look at him and saw the nasty expression spread across his face. She knew without a doubt that he wasn't bluffing, wasn't lying, and wasn't trying to trick her in some hare-brained way into doing his bidding. He _knew_!

"How?"

Harold described to her how he came to be in the bathroom stall earlier that day. He had been making a comment about Big Patty being so ugly it looked like a mule had kicked her in the head. Unfortunately, the girl _overheard_ said statement and went after him. She ran through the entire school trying to catch him, swearing with each step that she'd tear him in half. Desperate to get away, he zoomed around a corner and into a girl's bathroom because, hey, who'd think to look for a _boy _in a girl's bathroom?

Helga was dumbstruck. This could _not _be happening. No, this was just a variation of that same nightmare, only instead of giant statues she was being blackmailed by Harold, who knew her deepest, darkest secret. She'd wake up soon in a cold sweat and breath a sigh of relief.

_Anytime now it will be over, _she thought, closing her eyes tight.

When nothing happened, she opened her eyes and saw Harold still standing there. He was looking at that stupid bush again, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Forget the bush, Harold!" she shouted at him. "What are your demands? What do you want?"

"Oh," he said, looking back at her. "Well, it's not much, really. I just want you to be nicer to me from now on."

"That's it?"

"And get me a case of sticky buns."

"Anything _else?" _she snarled.

"Since you asked, how about a few of those chocolate sodas?"

She was starting to get angry. Not much? The case of sticky buns alone would cost her about ten bucks. Add in the cost of "a few of those chocolate sodas" and she was looking at spending fifteen bucks to keep this lardo's mouth shut.

"All right," she said, scowling at him, "bu---"

He was staring at the bush _yet again_. She finally snapped and dragged him over to the blasted thing by his chubby arm.

"For crying out loud, Harold!" she barked, pulling the foliage apart with her free hand. "There is nothing special about this…."

Her words caught in her throat like an over-sized chunk of beef, for there, sitting in the bushes, was Curly. For the second time today, she had been spied upon and she was furious.

"I don't _believe _this!" she moaned.

"Believe it, Helga!" Curly cackled, jumping gleefully from his hiding place. "Now _I _know everything!"

Something about this seemed…off. How had Curly known to hide in _that _bush? Why had Harold kept staring over at it through their entire conversation? She knew that she had been careless once today, but she was not about to believe that she had been _that _careless.

All the pieces seemed to click into place at once and she turned to Harold, her face red.

"You set me up, fat boy!" she yelled, advancing on him.

"Please, Helga," he pleaded, backing away, "nobody would believe me and this was the only way to prove it."

His stupidity was only matched by the size of his stomach. Oh, he was going to pay dearly for this!

"Harold," she said, cracking her knuckles, "let me give you a little advice. When someone gets angry enough to hurt you for spilling the beans to _one _person, it isn't in your best interest to admit to telling _more _people!"

"Beating me up won't change any of this," he said, still backing up.

"True," she said, "but it'll make _me _feel better."

Harold's world went black an instant later as something very hard collided with the side of his head. That settled, she turned to deal with Curly, but found him hopping merrily away like some kind of leprechaun, cackling wickedly at her.

"You'll never catch me," she heard him taunt. "Never catch me! Never catch meeeeee!"

Her heart sank. She'd never catch him, and she knew it. By this time tomorrow, the news of her infatuation with Arnold would be all over the school. She knew there was no chance of covering it up this time. She had gone through some insane situations to keep Arnold from finding out. Some of her most memorable had involved breaking into his house to either try and steal something back or try and erase something.

"That's it, then," she said sadly, "after all my efforts, all my troubles, all my tears, he'll finally find out."

She walked slowly down the street toward their neighborhood, knowing that after tomorrow it would never be the same again. Everyone would know, and they would stare at her, and some would even laugh; she was sure of it. She could throw her weight around sometimes, but she couldn't bully all of them.

She sank onto a bench in the park and put her face in her hands. Life could not get any worse.

"Hey, are you okay?" she heard a familiar voice ask.

She looked up and saw Arnold standing there, looking at her with concern. Her instincts immediately kicked in and she scowled at him.

"What's it to you, football head?" she asked angrily.

"Nothing," he said, rolling his eyes, "forget it."

Why had she done that? There was no reason to keep up this act anymore.

"Arnold," she called gently, causing him to stop and look over his shoulder, "I'm sorry. Please come sit down?"

He eyed her warily for a second before nodding and turning to walk back to her bench. He sat down beside her and gave her a weak smile.

"I'm in trouble, Arnold," she said.

"What happened?"

"Well, I've been keeping this secret for a long time," Helga explained, "and I was talking to Phoebe about it in the bathroom at lunch, but Harold overheard me."

"Harold was in the _girls'_ bathroom?"

"Yes," she continued, "he was. He heard everything I said, but nobody would believe him, so he had Curly hide in the bushes while he pretended to blackmail me."

"That's awfully clever," Arnold said. "Makes me wonder if Harold was the one who came up with it."

"It doesn't _matter_ who came up with it!" Helga said impatiently. "Curly's going to tell _everyone_!"

Arnold rubbed his chin and pondered this one. He had helped a lot of people in his time, and had even done things that people had thought were impossible, but there didn't seem to be any solution to this one. Curly was mean, cold-hearted, and crazy; if he had somebody's secret, it was almost guaranteed that he would tell it to everyone who would listen.

"I'm sorry, Helga," he said soothingly, "is there anything I can do?"

To his surprise, she smiled warmly at him and nodded.

"You and I could let bygones be bygones and be friends…for today, at least."

"Sure, Helga," Arnold said, returning her smile.

Together, they got up and walked out of the park.

* * *

**Chapter Three is coming very soon! Oh, things are going to get **_**so **_**interesting. Till next time, my friends….**


	3. Tears

**A Note from Ben: Sorry for the delay on this one. It's been a long time coming, but it's finally here. Sure, it's a little short, but the next chapter should be much longer. I swear. :)****

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Chapter Three - Tears**

_Olga:_

_We went out to dinner. We waited for you to come home from school so we could take you with us, but you must have been out with your friends. We'll bring you back a smoothie or something._

_-Miriam_

Helga balled up the note and threw it at the trash can with an angry roar. If there was one thing she hated more than being blackmailed, it was being called by her sister's name! She had long since lost track of how many times she had corrected her parents on that. Her name was Helga; Helga, Helga, Helga!

She stormed down the hall and noticed that the light was blinking on their answering machine. She mashed the button with her fist and, as the playback began, ground her teeth at the sound of the recording.

"Helga," Curly said, "I just thought I'd let you know that your secret is safe...for now. If you meet my demands, it'll stay safe. Don't try anything funny. I'll be in touch."

The tape clicked off and rewound itself. Helga stood there in stunned silence before she let out a bellow of rage. Was this for real? Was she honestly being blackmailed _again_? Well, she had had quite enough of this! If that little worm Curly thought he was going to turn her into a lapdog, he was in for a big surprise. She already felt bad enough that she had almost let someone like Harold get the best of her. It was not about to happen again.

"I'm Helga G. Pataki!" she snarled, bringing her fist down on the answering machine and smashing it. "Nobody gets the best of a Pataki!"

She stomped angrily to her room, where she always did her best thinking. Once there, she opened the closet and kneeled down in front of the Arnold shrine she had erected there. Just the sight of her football-headed effigy made her go soft inside and she felt herself smiling.

"Oh, Arnold!" she sighed. "How I long for the day when I can tell you how I really feel about you! How I dream of confessing to you that I love you, that you're my whole world, the center of my universe!"

She took the lock of hair she had stolen from Arnold in the park earlier that day and added it to the idol. That task accomplished, she rose to her feet and closed the closet door. Spending time with faux Arnold always made her feel so much better. Now that her head was clear, she would have a much easier time figuring out what her next move was.

She sat down in her chair and propped her feet up on the desk.

_You need to tell Arnold how you really feel._

Phoebe's words of advice came back to her in a rush, causing her to nearly fall out of her chair. They had had that conversation no more than seven hours earlier, yet so much had happened since then that it seemed like a lifetime ago.

_If you don't then you're going to lose him._

She definitely saw the truth in that statement now that she was out of options. Curly had dirt on her, and he was just cruel enough to tell everyone regardless of what she did. That meant that, despite her scheming and planning to keep her feelings a secret for all these years, the truth was finally going to come out. If Arnold found out from anyone but her, it could be disastrous. She either had to tell him or risk losing him forever.

But that's what the problem was all along, right? She had never told him, because she had been afraid of being turned down. It always seemed easier to hide the truth than deal with being rejected by the boy of her dreams.

_I just couldn't deal with that_, she thought, taking out the heart locket she kept tucked into her shirt. She stared at the picture of Arnold and thought of all she had done to keep from facing a life without him. She had broken into houses, stolen things, assaulted people, and slept in closets out of her desperation. _Out of my love for him, _she told herself.

The seriousness of her predicament, and the possibility that she might have her heart broken was suddenly too much for her to bear. In her head, she kept hearing Arnold telling her that he was sorry, that he didn't feel that way for her, that he _couldn't_. She broke down and wept, clutching the locket tightly to her face.

_No,_ she begged whatever Powers That Be, _please don't do this to me. I don't want my heart broken._

She flung herself onto her bed and continued to cry and beseech the Higher Powers. She did this for hours, hoping with each falling tear that maybe They would be merciful to her, that They would grant her a reprieve. Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy and sleep overtook her, causing the flow of tears to stop. The locket, however, remained clenched tightly to her face, as if keeping it near her provided some kind of strange protection against the heartbreak she was so sure was inevitable.


	4. Assault and Hanky Panky

**A Note From Ben: Sorry about the delay. I've had a lot of other things on my plate, as well as a lot of personal problems. The good news is that this story is going to go back on a regular schedule. Even as I type this, looking down at a lot of hard work, I'm preparing the next chapter in my head. The opening scenes are already formed and only need to be typed up. I know where this is going now, and where it _isn't_, so this story is finally getting some substance to it. Hope you like the new chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter Four - Assault and Hanky Panky**

Helga stood on the sidewalk in front of PS 118, looking up at the old brick structure. Today was going to be a rough day, she just knew it. Curly would surely confront her and make his demands known today. He was too much of an impatient little worm to wait. He'd want to relish in the feeling of having power over her, of being able to control her and get her to do his bidding. Well, he was in for a surprise. She was not going to be treated like some kind of leashed animal. She knew people who owed her a few favors, and she knew she could bully a few more who _didn't_ into helping her. She'd pick Curly off like the little scab he was and flick him to the side.

Still, despite this inner determination, she had her doubts. She knew that she could probably get him roughed up a bit, and he might even keep his mouth shut for a little while, but what would that really do? Would it solve the problem or simply delay the inevitable? Surely he wouldn't be able to maintain his silence forever, no matter what she did. It would eat him up inside, make him feel like he was going to pop. He'd eventually reveal everything he knew...or Harold would.

_Harold._

That was a name that was beginning to make her angry every time it echoed in her head. It wasn't just because he had dirt on her, too. No, it was worse than that. Harold was an _idiot_ with dirt on her. He was, in her opinion, one of the most brain dead people she'd ever met. That he would get lucky enough to overhear something so personal, and that by doing so he had one-upped her, made her want to not only grind her teeth, but also scream in frustration.

_Am I losing it? Have I really gotten so careless?_

No, that was ridiculous. She had always been so careful...

_Absurd!_ said a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her sister Olga. _You call yourself careful? How about the time you left your journal sitting on the bus?_

_That was..._

_And,_ the voice continued, _the time you managed to let your locket-- your _inscribed locket_-- fall into the hands of Arnold's grandfather?_

_Yeah, but..._

_And let's not forget,_ Head-Olga leered, _the time you called Arnold's house and left that confession on his answering machine!_

She grabbed the sides of her head and shook it back and forth, tearing at her hair in frustration. She didn't want to hear anymore! She'd gotten the idea. She had always been careless. She'd taken unnecessary risks, left incriminating evidence just laying around, and had been, all in all, downright sloppy with her most closely guarded secret. In some ways, it even seemed like she'd been, at least on some unconscious level that she didn't understand at all, _trying_ to get caught.

_That's stupid. Why would I _try_ to get caught?_

Still, she couldn't help but think, as she walked slowly up the stairs and into the building, that she heard that strange Olga-like voice tittering at her.

* * *

"Okay, class," Mr. Simmons said over the ringing of the bell, "we've got a lot to cover today. Now who can tell me..." 

Helga tuned him out and looked cautiously around the room. Harold was sitting in his usual seat, of course, with his backside taking up so much room it was actually hanging off the sides. She felt her lip curl in disgust at the sight of it and turned away. No threat there at the moment, it seemed. She turned her attention to Curly, and saw him staring at her in a most disturbing way. It was a look that said "I've got you pegged". She didn't like it at all, and she felt an almost overwhelming desire to get up out of her seat and pummel him senseless.

_Little creep. You'll get yours._

She turned away and looked toward where Arnold was sitting, two rows in front of her. She felt her anger evaporate at the sight of him, replaced with the warm and fuzzy feeling she always experienced whenever she thought about him. God, she just couldn't get enough of him. It was as if he put off some kind of pheromone that only she was able to pick up on, one that drove her absolutely crazy and made her want to do things that she'd never do with anyone else. Things like holding hands, cuddling up together, maybe sneaking kisses when nobody was looking...

_With anyone else that seems just gross, but with Arnold...with Arnold it almost seems...well, _right.

She stared at him through the entire period, not even bothering to cover it up. Why be coy about it? If anyone asked, she could just say she was staring in that direction because she was paying attention to what Simmons was saying. That was a pathetic excuse for a lie, of course, because almost everyone knew she rarely paid any attention at all to what Simmons or any other teacher had to say. She didn't care, though. At the moment, she had her focus exactly where she wanted it, and if anyone dared to question it, she'd make them wish they hadn't. She was still Helga, after all, and no amount of blackmail was going to change the fact that she was best known around the school for her often aggressive behavior. It was the way the Patakis were, with the exception of Olga, and she was neither ashamed of it, nor apologetic for it.

When the bell rang, signaling the first recess period of the day, it caught her off-guard and she actually jumped with a slight squeal, causing several people to turn and look at her. She had been so lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't even noticed the time passing. Arnold really did have that kind of affect on her. She could grow old staring at him. He was just so...so perfect and...

"Helga," a voice to her right called, causing her to look over in annoyance. She found herself nearly nose-to-nose with Curly, who was leaning so close to her she could smell his rancid breath and see the chunk of bacon still lodged in his teeth from his breakfast this morning. At least, she _hoped_ it was from this morning, though knowing Curly, it easily could have been there for days, maybe even weeks.

"What do you want?" she demanded. She got up and moved toward the door, though it was more to get as far away from him as possible than out of her desire to participate in recess.

"Why, Helga," he said with sincerity so fake it made Helga want to throw up, "I was just concerned about you. After all, the way you were staring holes into the back of Arnold's head for the last two hours might give people...the _wrong_ _idea_."

She clenched her fists so hard she felt her fingernails dig into her skin. This little worm was really asking for it, and if he kept running his mouth, she was going to give it to him.

"Get. Away. From me," she hissed, stomping down the hallway.

"Oh, Helga," Curly prodded, "you're _sooo _mean to me. Don't you think..."

Curly never finished. He barely ducked in time to avoid Helga's fist, which slammed into a nearby locker and left a dent. He took this as his cue to leave and scampered off before she could take another swing at him. She never bothered to chase him. Let the little twerp go. She was in too much pain to do much to him anyway. Hitting that locker had really done a number on her hand, and she was cradling it tenderly, hoping desperately that she hadn't broken any of her fingers.

* * *

The little stunt with the locker got her a week's worth of detention, scheduled to start the following afternoon, and a visit to the nurse's station. The nurse informed her that, though her fingers were not broken, she had been extremely foolish and should refrain from using them if at all possible. To help with this, she was told to remain there in the office and not return to class until the following day. She tried not to show her elation at this, because she was supposed to be injured and thinking about her "foolish actions". Still, she couldn't help but smile and pump her fist in a celebratory manner when the nurse's back was turned. No interaction with the others for the rest of the day meant that she didn't have to deal with Curly or Harold until tomorrow, at the very earliest. 

_One less worry on my mind._

She laid back on the little cot in the corner and looked at the clock. 11:00. That meant she had four free hours to think about her dilemma. She might have time at home, but it wouldn't be the same. Here, it was quiet and she could focus her thoughts quite easily. At home, Miriam was always running the blender or Big Bob was shouting about something, or both. Regardless of the fact that she'd lived around it her whole life, it was still distracting. She would be much better off thinking things out here, then wandering around the park figuring things out for a couple of hours before going back.

_Okay, so the problem as it stands: Harold overheard my confession, then spilled it to God only knows how many people, and they didn't believe him. That part is salvageable. Then he gets Curly to hide in the bushes and tricks me into confessing again. Now Curly _and_ Harold know. What's the best way to discredit the both of them?_

Try as she might, she honestly could not come up with a single idea. It would have been easy enough to make Harold look like a liar. After all, all she'd have to do to blow up his story is challenge the fact that he was in the girls' bathroom. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to tell everyone that he'd been hiding from Big Patty, and would not be able to concoct a different story on the spot. He'd look like a liar and an idiot, and the whole thing would blow over. Now that Curly knew, however, there was a credible witness and it would be practically impossible to make it all look like a fable.

_So then I'm left with only one option._

As much as she hated to admit it, she seemed to reach the same conclusion each and every time she went over this in her head. That really bothered her. After all, she had pulled off so many narrow escapes in the past. How is it that one moment of carelessness, one day of not looking around every corner, under every stall door, and in every trash can, had resulted in her being backed into a corner like a wounded rat?

_I have to tell him._

A slight knock on the door caused her to look up slightly, only to remember that she was surrounded by a privacy curtain. Whoever it was was concealed from her view. Still, that didn't stop her from straining her ears to listen as she heard the nurse get up from her creaky wooden chair and open the door.

"Yes?" she heard.

"I was wondering if I could visit with Helga for a minute," a familiar voice asked.

"Shouldn't you be in class, Arnold?"

Helga's heart soared. He had come to visit her! That meant...what _did_ that mean? That he liked her like he seemed to like Lila? Well, not necessarily. It was a little early to jump to conclusions like that. It _could_ mean, however, that he didn't _not_ like her as a _friend_, despite all the nasty things she'd done to him over the years. That was a starting point, right? Honestly, would he be visiting if he didn't feel some kind of friendly concern, some kind of affection, for her?

"I'm caught up," she heard him reply, "and Mr. Simmons said I could come visit until the lunch bell if it was okay with you."

Helga heard the nurse sigh in an exasperated way, and was afraid for a moment that she was gonna send Arnold away. If she did that, Helga was pretty sure she'd flip out on her.

"I guess so," the nurse said, "but try and keep it down. I do work in here, you know."

A moment later, she peeked in at Helga, then pulled the curtain back and allowed Arnold to come over and sit on the bed. Helga saw him smile at her, and for a moment she wasn't sure she would be able to give him any kind of response at all. Her brain and her heart were screaming at her to smile back, to say hello, to do something friendly, while her instincts simply told her to call him a "Football Head" and order him to get out. At this point, she knew her instincts were wrong, and had simply been born out of a need to protect herself and her image back when they were very small. She was well aware that putting on the act was useless, as Arnold was going to find out whether she liked it or not.

_The more I treat him like garbage, the less likely it's going to be that he's gonna take the news well._

"H...hey, Arnold," she managed to stutter after a moment or two.

"Hi, Helga," he replied.

"Wh-what brings you here?" she asked, not able to control the nervousness in her own voice.

"Well," Arnold said, "I heard you've been having trouble with Curly again."

She looked angrily down at her tender fingers, which actually looked a little swollen. She felt the urge to clench her fist in anger, as was her custom, but of course the fist she always clenched was the one she had tried to use to rearrange Curly's facial features. That meant that to do so would result in a very painful reminder of how she'd wound up on the cot in the first place. It had taken a few angry surges for her to remember this and control herself, but she was at the point where she was constantly grinding her teeth instead. Her dentist was going to be so mad at her.

"Just a little bit," she growled. "I don't really know what to do, other than telling my secret myself and spoiling his fun."

"That seems a bit drastic, don't you think?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She had to fight the urge to sigh in delight. It made her go crazy when he did stuff like that. Whether it was a raising of the eyebrows, the way he sometimes rubbed his chin when he was in deep thought, or his constant shaking of his backside when he was at bat during a baseball game; little things that were just part of his mannerisms made her want to melt into a puddle of goo.

"I...don't think I have any other options," she said, barely managing to compose herself.

"You've always got options, Helga," Arnold said.

"I'd sure love to know what they are."

Arnold looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully for a few minutes. Up came his hand and he began rubbing his chin, driving her nearly crazy with delight. She wouldn't have minded sitting there all day, watching him moving his hand back and forth across his perfect face.

_Oh, don't stop. I love you so much. You're perfect in every way. Don't ever change my sweet, my love, my..._

"Tell you what," he said, looking back at her with a determined expression on his face, "I'm gonna think about this for the rest of the day. After school, I'll walk home with you and fill you in on what I've come up with."

"You...you'd walk home...with me?" she stuttered, completely shocked. She wasn't even bothering to put on the big bad Pataki act anymore. It was just like being back in her room when she thought she'd been dying of Monkeynucleosis. That day, she and Arnold had been able to share a genuine, tender moment because she'd let down her guard and had been completely honest and civil with him. To hear Arnold offer to walk her home from school completely destroyed whatever defenses she still had and brought her back to that place of complete openness. In other words, she was too flabbergasted to be tough.

"Of course, Helga," he said with a smile. "I'd be happy to."

She returned his smile and reached out to put her hand on his. To her further surprise, he didn't pull away when she did so, but simply looked back at her with a warmth in his eyes she'd never seen him give her before and put his other hand on top of hers.

_Don't move your hand. Please don't ever move it. Let's stay like this forever._

But, of course, all good things have to come to an end. It only lasted until the nurse looked over and saw what they were doing and ordered them to break it up. Despite Arnold's insistence that there was nothing to it, she still shooed him from the room, telling him that they'd have to save their hanky panky for their own time.


End file.
